The Industry Planted Them In My Heart

Header: Valerie Letts

There’s this phenomenon in music discourse on the topic of integrity, authenticity, and merit. I’m talking about industry plants. While the term industry plant doesn’t have any objective or definitive meaning, it generally refers to an artist or band who is advertised as independent, hardworking artists, while simultaneously (and secretly) receiving financial and industry support from big record labels. But there’s such a wide scope of who is, and who isn’t considered an industry plant; is it the artist who, from obscurity, is moulded to fit whatever image the label wants to advertise, and thrust into the limelight to be ‘shoved’ down the throats of consumers? Or is it a musician who happened to have family connections to the industry, or even just someone with financial resources?

Before I get into the discourse, let’s get semantic. The term industry plant appears to have originated on an online hip-hop forum, ‘KanyeToThe’, in 2012, on a post claiming that everyone from Waka Flocka Flame to Lil Wayne were industry plants, without any evidence. Yet, the definition of what an industry plant is remains questionable. The lack of any concrete parameters of what an industry plant is can at best, subject them to some scrutiny, and at worst, discredit their reputability and stain their reputation.

Let’s take it a step further. We might not know what an industry plant is, but the intention behind the label might provide clarity. Industry plants, in the claim that they succeeded because of hard work and not industry support, signifies that ‘if you work hard enough, you can be famous too’. So the discourse surrounding industry plants is driven by the concept of musical integrity. But looking back to as early as the 1950s, the idea of ‘selling out’ described artists who had allegedly sacrificed their artistic integrity in favour of getting paid. The problem of artistic integrity is nothing new in music discourse.

The concept of musical integrity is, in my opinion, inseparable from the concept of authenticity, which is particularly salient in the case of industry plants, whose ‘deception’ regards their identity. I have to admit, I don’t completely hate criticisms about authenticity in music, a medium frequently used to delve into and explore the complexities of life from a personal perspective. Music, which can depict difficult topics and struggles, can facilitate what feels like a connection between the listener and the musician, providing something akin to a community, validating myriad perspectives, rooted in similar experiences. The thought of certain albums or songs elicit such strong emotions and can even transport me back to a particular time period. If you were to ask about my middle-school music obsessions, I could talk your ears off for hours about how important that music was to my development. Now, nearly ten years later, when I think about certain musicians, I can remember the feeling of sitting on the tarmac during recess, sharing earbuds with my best friend as we listened to music on her iPod. I find it somewhat justifiable to question musicians on the basis of authenticity, from the perspective of a listener. For a musician's success story, with whom you might feel connected, to be exposed as a strategic plan can understandably result in feelings of betrayal and deception.

But is it really that big of a deal? Musicians have never been paragons of authenticity and integrity, and beyond the emotional impact, should being labelled an industry plant really disregard their merit?

Two musicians who I enjoy, Clairo and Lorde, have been identified as industry plants in some way, but the ways they differ are particularly illuminating to the illegitimacy of the industry plant label. Clairo, originally recognized for her lo-fi bedroom pop aesthetic, rose to fame with “Pretty Girl” which she wrote and recorded herself on her computer and uploaded to YouTube. What isn’t visible at first glance, however, is that her father is a high-up marketing exec for many large corporations, like Converse, and had connections to A&R executives. So Clairo is an industry plant because her dad knew the right people. Lorde first rose to fame with “Royals”, topping Spotify’s Viral Chart six days after it was added to Napster co-founders playlist. But Lorde was actually first discovered at 12 years old when former Warner manager saw a video of her performing at a school talent show and signed her to a developmental deal with Universal. Lorde was plucked from obscurity and signed to a label at a young age, just to be presented years later as a teen who broke through the industry. In some definition, both Clairo and Lorde would be considered industry plants, but this isn’t an attack against the artists. While I do think transparency is important if and when musicians have had assistance, but I don’t think that the musicians should be targeted for it. Rather than placing the blame on the artist, scrutiny should be directed toward the industry itself.